


sweetness on our tongues;

by fracturedvaels



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fracturedvaels/pseuds/fracturedvaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small kiss fic. Companion to "easy as always easy".</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweetness on our tongues;

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally from my tumblr,](http://princetheirin.tumblr.com/post/121713274307/therell-be-sweetness-on-our-tongues) thanks to those meddling friends again.

His kisses taste sweet, like peaches. He can taste the blood, and he’s horrified to find he likes that, too; the contrast of something good, something beautiful, and the reminder and the burden of something terrible.

His mouth is soft, warm, and Carver finds himself melting into it far too easily. This is their goodbye – for now, a promise, an offering. _Come back to me_ , Sebastian’s kiss says. His eyes are blue, like Carver’s, but different; a purer blue, a lighter blue, like lyrium. They sing things to him, sweet and sad, innocent and infinite. Sebastian’s only three years older than him, but he’s got three times the experience, the stories, the life.

Carver wants all of it. Not just the light and the funny, but also the deep, the dark, the bad; he wants to hear more about running away to Tantervale, and he wants to hear about the time his father cracked his desk in fury. He wants the stories about creeping from tavern to tavern, giving guards the slip, and he wants to hear about how Sebastian cried for three days when he heard his grandfather had died. He wants to know his favorite color, and his biggest fear; he wants to know his favorite brand of whiskey and what he felt when he heard his family had been killed.

Carver is selfish and he wants all of it. And he wants to give, too; and Maker, but in that kiss, he feels something holy, something beautiful and pure. He feels the pulse and the echo and he thinks this is acceptance – that Sebastian is selfish, too.

After the kiss – after another hug from his brother, and from Fenris, and one from Aveline, and a goodbye gift of coins from Varric and Garrett and a potion from Anders and a scarf from Merrill (and something unmentionable from Isabela, given wrapped in red velvet and with the most _dangerous_ wink); after another kiss, and another, and after he presses his lips to Sebastian’s wrist, he leaves feeling more solid than he has in years. He leaves tasting peaches, and blood, the bittersweet of promises.

He knows better than to get his hopes up. With the lives they lead, either one of them could be dead or worse before they meet again. But Carver’s learned. He’s better. He’s stronger, now. And he aims to keep the promise, because he knows Sebastian will too.


End file.
